“
Being an irreligious puritan and a rational mystic, I think it’s irresponsible to let a belief think for you or a chemical dream for you.
— Ursula K. Le Guin
“
Try to choose carefully, Arren, when the great choices must be made. When I was young, I had to choose between the life of being and the life of doing. And I leapt at the latter like a trout to a fly. But each deed you do, each act, binds you to itself and to its consequences, and makes you act again and yet again. Then very seldom do you come upon a space, a time like this, between act and act, when you may stop and simply be. Or wonder who, after all, you are.
— from “The Farthest Shore” by Ursula K. Le Guin
“
I’m almost never serious, and I’m always too serious. Too deep, too shallow. Too sensitive, too cold hearted. I’m like a collection of paradoxes.
— Ferdinand von Schrubentaufft (via thatkindofwoman)
Reblogged from That Kind Of Woman
“
As a drop in the ocean you take part in the current, ebb and flow. You swell slowly on the land and slowly sink back again in the interminably slow breaths. You wander vast distances in blurred currents and wash up on strange shores, not knowing how you got there. You mount the billows of huge storms and are swept back again into the depths. And you do not know how this happens to you. You had thought that your movement came from you and that it needed your decisions and efforts, so that you could get going and make progress. But with every conceivable effort you would never have achieved that movement and reached those areas to which the sea and the great wind of the world brought you.
— Carl Jung
One or Two Things by Mary Oliver
Don’t bother me.
I’ve just
been born.
The butterfly’s loping flight
carries it through the country of the leaves
delicately, and well enough to get it
where it wants to go, wherever that is, stopping
here and there to fuzzle the damp throats
of flowers and the black mud; up
and down it swings, frenzied and aimless; and sometimes
for long delicious moments it is perfectly
lazy, riding motionless in the breeze on the soft stalk
of some ordinary flower.
The god of dirt
came up to me many times and said
so many wise and delectable things, I lay
on the grass listening
to his dog voice,
crow voice,
frog voice; now,
he said, and now,
and never once mentioned forever,
which has nevertheless always been,
like a sharp iron hoof,
at the center of my mind.
One or two things are all you need
to travel over the blue pond, over the deep
roughage of the trees and through the stiff
flowers of lightning — some deep
memory of pleasure, some cutting
knowledge of pain.
But to lift the hoof!
For that you need
an idea.
For years and years I struggled
just to love my life. And then
the butterfly
rose, weightless, in the wind.
“Don’t love your life
too much,” it said,
and vanished
into the world.
“One child is holding something that’s been banned in America to protect them. Guess which one?”
Reblogged from Booklover
thing’s on first, thing’s on second, i don’t knows on third
i sat down to write a thing
and that thing said “well, no, you actually sat down to write this thing”
and that thing said “hello! im here! im sorry though, but
no
im not the thing either. the things coming along now.
just wait a moment.”
then
here was the thing!
it arrived and said:
“hey
sorry
its not me either.
the thing really is coming though.
listen for it.
here it comes.”
then!
finally!
at long last,
here it was!
the thing!
the real, honest-to-goodness thing!!
it was:
“i am not the thing. wait here, it should be along in a bit.”
A special conversation with Louis C.K.
Reblogged from Digg Videos
“
I was driven to ask myself in all seriousness: “What is the myth you are living?” I found no answer to this question, and had to admit that I was not living with a myth, or even in a myth, but rather in an uncertain cloud of theoretical possibilities which I was beginning to regard with increasing distrust … So in the most natural way, I took it upon myself to get to know “my” myth, and I regarded this as the task of tasks.
— C.G. Jung
(1/60)
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